Snogwarts: The Hogsmeade Temptress
by SNOGWARTS
Summary: At age sixteen, the word that best described Lucius Malfoy, was “horny”. This opinion was shared by Slytherin House, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Sinistra, the Black family, the Malfoy family, Lucius himself, and many girls at Hogwarts.


SNOGWARTS: The Hogsmeade Temptress

By GOLD fish 945  
Assigned by Verbal Klepto

At age sixteen, the word that best described Lucius Malfoy, agreed upon by the whole of Hogwarts, was "horny". This opinion was shared by Slytherin House, Professor Slughorn, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sinistra, the Black family, the Malfoy family, Lucius himself, and many of the girls of Hogwarts, who often looked at him with a combination of contempt and curiosity.

Lucius, for his part, found girls (as a general, indiscriminant whole) to be a vast sea of blurred faces, hot bodies, and nasal voices. But the blurred faces and nasal voices were completely worth it if he got to experience the hot bods as well. He looked at everybody. He tried not to sometimes, but as a sixteen year old male who was already engaged to be tied down, he could not stop his wandering eyes. Luckily, one of his favorites to look at was his fiancée, Narcissa Black. His other two favorites were Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy professor, and Madame Rosmerta, the barmaid at the Three Broomsticks. Lucius knew he had a _thing_ for older women. All three were older than he was by at least a year. (Although the second two were significantly older than just a year!)

Now, on Valentine's Day, the female population of Hogwarts got all a-flutter at the thought of true love and rigorous sex. For guys like Lucius, his "all a-flutter" feeling came at Yuletide.

At Christmas, the Hogwarts castle was always alight and bustling with joy and magical snow. And fairy lights. Lucius was alight with the glow of a certain "Christmas spirit." This "Christmas spirit" caused him to wank in the Slytherin dorms between classes almost every day.

Despite his constant depravity of mind, Lucius had some thoughts that did not revolve around his particular "Christmas spirit". He was quite glad to have a break from homework and classes when break time rolled around. Though, once break actually began, he consistently missed two of his favorite wanking subjects: Narcissa and Rosmerta. Rosmerta was, of course, in Hogsmeade. Narcissa, as a proper Black, (unlike her unruly, Gryffindor, second-year cousin, Sirius) was attending her family's annual Christmas celebration.

The reason Lucius was spending his own holiday at Hogwarts was because his father and mother were taking a trip to Spain, and he had opted not to tag along with them. It was, overall, a rather lonely Christmas for Lucius. Most Slytherins went home for Christmas, leaving behind only a handful of fifth years, seventh years, and first years. The first two were far too busy preparing for their standardized tests, and the first years were just plain obnoxious, leaving Lucius to brood alone in his dorm room.

On Christmas morning, Lucius opened his gifts alone. He sighed, wishing there was someone worth talking to in the castle, wishing for something _fun_ to happen.

'_Maybe I could torment one of the Hufflepuff first years,'_ he thought, though he knew he wouldn't. Slughorn might revoke his prefect badge, and though he parents fully supported the extinction of Mudbloods, they would be horrified if Lucius did _anything_ that compromised his badge or his future. Lucius found, as he sat alone in the Slytherin Common Room, that he missed his parents, almost wishing he had gone to Spain with them. This Christmas seemed to be highly depressing.

Finally, after watching several first years run around the Slytherin dorm, shouting, Lucius stood and left the Slytherin dorms. It was still a good hour until Christmas Dinner in the Great Hall. He groaned as he checked the time, wishing that he could just have dinner already. He was getting quite hungry, and along with hunger came irresistible depression. He wished he could wank to pass the time, but there was absolutely _no_ stimulation in the whole stupid castle.

He wandered the halls for a good hour, trying to tell people off, but he knew he was a bit out of line. People were _allowed_ to be in the hallways in the middle of the day during break. He checked the time every ten minutes until (finally) it was time to head down to the Great Hall for Christmas dinner.

When he reached the Hall, he found that the House tables had disappeared, leaving one, large table for everyone. It looked as though it would seat about twenty people. The Professors were already seated, along with the two Hufflepuffs who had stayed, and the six Ravenclaws. Lucius was the first Slythern there. He walked over and sat, waiting. When the other Slytherins and Gryffindors arrived, Professor Dumbledore, who had been chatting animatedly with Professor McGonagall, clapped his hands with delight and said, "Well, waiting for just one more! But she will forgive me if we begin without her, I daresay! She informed me so herself! So, please, enjoy."

The seat next to Lucius remained empty for another ten minutes as the food was passed around the table. The great, roaring fire, which was situated where the High Table usually sat, warmed the entire room completely.

Just as Lucius began to take his first bites of mashed potatoes, the fire turned green and a dark, spinning figure appeared in it. She toppled out of the fireplace, but managed to catch herself before she fell. She held a wrapped gift for Professor Dumbledore in her hands, and it looked to be a large bottle of some kind of alcohol from her pub.

"Ah, Albus!" said Madame Rosmerta, quite cheerfully. "I see I'm a bit late."

"Quite alright, my dear Rosmerta," said Dumbledore, standing and leading her to the only available seat – the seat beside Lucius. She handed Dumbledore the gift, and dropped herself into the seat, scooting it closer to the table.

"Ah, please feel free to dig in, my dear," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"Rosmerta," said Professor McGonagall, "why are you dining with us this Christmas? You usually spend your Christmases at the Three Broomsticks."

"My brother and his wife are arguing," said Madame Rosmerta sadly. "I fear for their marriage. I know the pain of divorce, and I had no desire to watch it happen to someone else. So I took dear Albus up on his offer to celebrate Christmas dinner at Hogwarts!"

Lucius absolutely loved this Christmas. He could feel himself completely hard under the table. Madame Rosmerta was an absolutely beautiful woman. Whoever had divorced her was either a complete moron or a complete ponce. He glanced down and saw that she was wearing her usual sparkly turquoise heels, and his stomach lurched.

Merlin, she was hot.

Lucius spent a great deal of dinner trying to think of something to say to her, but he only came up with things like, 'Do you like owning a bar?' and 'Would you like to go snog in a broom closet?'

As dessert appeared on the table, Lucius felt determined. He _would_ talk to this beautiful woman. What was he, a bloody Hufflepuff? Couldn't even talk to a woman? It was utterly ridiculous.

"So, Madame Rosmerta," he began, and she turned to gaze at him with the most seductive golden-brown eyes he'd ever seen, and he paused. "Um, I mean, is turquoise your favorite color? Your heels," he added at the end, trying to make her understand why he'd thought of it. Her face broke into a smile. It seemed as though she'd wanted to talk to him as well.

"No, actually," she said. "I do love turquoise, but I must say that my favorite colors are my old House colors."

"Which?" he asked politely, praying to Merlin and Gandalf and King Arthur and Voldemort and everyone possible that it was _not_ Gryffindor.

"Blue and bronze," she said nostalgically. "Ravenclaw was my House."

"Blue and turquoise are in the… cool color family," he pointed out, internally rejoicing.

"Yes, but the Ravenclaw blue is much redder, less yellow," she said. "But after those two, turquoise it is! What is _your_ favorite color, Mr. Malfoy?" He grinned, feeling his stomach squirm and his hard-on throb. She remembered his name. He could just hear it whispering in his ear, sensually, _"Mr. Malfoy."_

"Mr. Malfoy?" she repeated.

"Oh, uh, I guess green," he said. "For Slytherin and all. But I am rather partial to black as well."

"That's quite dull," she said.

"I suppose," he said. "I like to think of it as 'classy,' though," he said. "I like _some _bright colors…"

"Such as?"

"Orange," he said without hesitation. He had never admitted this to anyone. His father had ingrained in him, from a very early age, that Malfoys were _proper_ and _subdued_. Overt emotion was generally a bad thing. Attracting too much unwanted attention was absolutely out of the question. So saying that he liked the color 'orange' was absolutely ridiculous. His father would probably cane him if he ever found out.

"Really?" said Rosmerta, obviously surprised. "Hm, orange. I've never thought of it. It is a nice color. But there are some truly horrendous shades of orange."

"True," agreed Lucius. "Like macaroni and cheese."

"Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking!" said Rosmerta.

"I guess great minds think alike," said Lucius, giving Rosmerta an attempt at a seductive glance. If they clicked the right way, Lucius might end up getting a little lucky this evening. "Christmas spirit" type lucky.

Rosmerta just laughed though, and patted his left arm. "Yes, it looks like they do!" she said, chuckling. "So," she continued, "I haven't been up to the school for many years now. Has much changed?"

"I don't really know," he said. "I bet not though. Well, Ogg retired when I was a second year, and that Hagrid bloke took over for him."

"Ogg is gone?" said Rosmerta sadly. "He was a nice man. At least to me…"

"I'm sure everyone is nice to you," said Lucius, making no attempt to hide his intentions. "People are always nice to beautiful women." Rosmerta smiled, and he noticed a glint of mischief in her eye. His hopes soared.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

"Lucius," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. She laughed again.

"Alright, Lucius," she said. They talked and talked, ignoring the rest of the people at the table. Occasionally, Dumbledore or McGonagall would steal Rosmerta's attention for a few moments, but she always returned to him. Lucius found himself daydreaming when this happened, imaging exactly what it would feel like to snog Madame Rosmerta. He bet that it would be way better than snogging Narcissa – because let's face it, Rosmerta had much more experience than Narcissa did.

"Well, Lucius," said Rosmerta, checking her watch, another hour later, "I'm afraid I have to be going."

"Why?" asked Lucius, desperate to keep her there. "It's not like you have to close up the pub or anything. Stay a little longer."

"We're the only ones in here," she said. "And I'm sure my brother will expect me back sometime _tonight_."

"It's only eight," he said, almost begging. His father would be ashamed. "Stay a little longer." She laughed again – he noticed that he made her laugh a lot.

"Well, another few minutes couldn't hurt," she said. "Is there anything particular you want me to stay for?"

Lucius froze. This could be it. He could tell her exactly why he wanted her to stay. There could only be two reactions: rejection or acceptance. Either one was manageable, so he steeled himself.

"Well, I was hoping – well, wondering – if maybe you'd like to… go somewhere," he said. He knew he sounded like an adolescent boy with no tact or game, but he had tried. He had made the first move. And he knew as he looked into her face that it was not going to happen. She had raised an eyebrow and was looking at him with a mixture of skepticism and amusement.

"What was that?" she asked. Lucius pushed through. This time, it would come out right. Blunt and perfect. She would have no questions in her mind as to what he meant.

"I was hoping," he stated boldly, and much louder, "you'd like to go and snog somewhere."

Her expression did not change for a moment. She looked away from him after a moment, and seemed to contemplate the idea. Lucius felt his heartbeats screech to a halt. She was actually _thinking about it?_ He couldn't breathe.

"How old are you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked finally. It was back to Mr. Malfoy, was it? He grinned.

"Seventeen," he lied. He wasn't seventeen for another four months, but she did not need to know that.

"Really? But aren't you a sixth year?" he shrugged.

"I'm in the older half of the year," he fibbed. "It's not really a big deal."

"Actually," she said, "it's a very big deal. Because if I took you up on your offer, and you were underage, that could have resulted in some jail time for me." She gave him a smile unlike any other she had given him previously – it was a devilish grin, so seductive and sensual, and Lucius felt his cock harden so fast he gasped. "I must say, Lucius Malfoy, you could have been the epitome of _jailbait_."

"You think?" he croaked. He could barely breath with the look she was giving him.

"Mmm, yes," she said. "With your blonde hair, and those _piercing _grey eyes of yours," she said as she reached out a hand, caressing his short hair between her fingers. "It's so utterly bewitching." Lucius gulped loudly. "So," she said, suddenly in a quite business-like manner, "where are we doing this?"

"Wherever you want," he said truthfully. He was far too happy that she was actually _going_ to snog him to have any idea of _where_.

"We could go old school," she said, her eyes glinting again, "and head for the nearest broom cupboard." Lucius did not even respond. He stood quickly, and his cock on bumped against the table, making him bite his lip so hard it drew blood. He saw her eyes glance downward, and her appreciative smile made all his insecurities vanish as quickly as they bloomed in his mind.

She reached out her hand and entwined their fingers together, then suddenly took off running, yanking him behind her. But he quickly matched her pace, and then began to lead her to the best snogging broom cupboard he knew of. It was right near Professor Flitwick's room, and expanded to just the right size whenever anyone entered it. He had heard it was Charmed so in his first year, and this was not the first time he had tried it.

"Oh my!" said Rosmerta, impressed. "_This_ wasn't here when I was a student!" The closet seemed to know what they were there to do. It barely expanded, leaving just enough room for them to rustle around, but not enough to call it a "room". It was still a cupboard.

"I heard about it my first year," said Lucius, pulling the door shut. They were immersed in darkness, and Lucius scrambled closer to where he thought she was, before tripping slightly on a bucket. He fell right into Rosmerta's bosom. She didn't seem startled – she just laughed.

"Sorry," he said, but not quite meaning it.

"Oh, dear," she said, and he felt her moving closer to him in the darkness, "that happens all the time at the pub." He felt her hand on his face. Now that he was standing up fully, she _was_ shorter than him, but not by much. He felt his hands find their way to her waist, and his heart was suddenly slamming in his chest. There was a ringing in his ears, an anxiety of anticipation in his heart, and just as he feared that he would explode from nerves and excitement, he felt her lips touch his own lightly.

He jumped from surprise. But why was he surprised? Wasn't this exactly what they'd come here to do? Yes, yes it was! His heart leapt with joy, and he pushed his lips against hers, leaning her against the wall. He was so hard, and he could feel his blood throbbing in each of his lengthy extremities.

Then, all of a sudden, Rosmerta was pushing _him_ against the wall, grinding her hips against his, pulling his hands up through her robes. He gasped. _This_ was certainly more than expected. He ground back, and let his hands explore, as she obviously did not mind. Her tongue was in his mouth, and she tasted like mead – a bit alcohol, a bit of something older, classier… He gasped against her mouth again, unable to breath, but unwilling to pull away.

And then she was gone, and he was about to splutter an incoherent "wha?" before she was back, but he could tell something was different this time, even in the darkness. When his hands found her again, he realized what was different – she was no longer wearing her robe. As this realization hit him, he became so hard that it was almost painful. He could barely move. His lips were still busy kissing Madame Rosmerta, but her hands were trying to undress him as quickly as possible, snapping several buttons of his robe. He did not care. He could repair it later. Soon, he was also robe-less, shirtless, and trouser-less, leaving him only in his underwear, which was now the only thing between him and Madame Rosmerta's own skirt-less body, underwear, and then what lay beyond… He thrust against her, hoping to Merlin that she'd let him have her.

Hands were flying, thrusts were pulsing, and whispers came from everywhere around Lucius. Just as he had imagined, Rosmerta was moaning his name.

"_Mr. Malfoy,_" she moaned, moving to angle herself more perfectly for the act Lucius so wanted. He reached out to slip off her underwear, but before he could reach, the broom cupboard door flew open, and two very loud people burst out laughing.

"I _told_ you!" screamed a messy-haired boy with round glasses, who was almost crying with mirth.

"I c-can't believe you're _right_!" shouted the other dark haired boy, who _was_ crying. "Holy Merlin's _ballsac_! This is _unbelievable_!"

Narcissa's fucking annoying cousin and his friend were standing outside the cupboard, howling with laughter at them. Lucius froze, horrified. Madame Rosmerta, however, did not seem too perturbed.

"Now boys," she chastised, "I think you're a bit young for a free show. Scurry along, now." The two boys nodded, clutching their stomachs and tripping over their own feet. The boy who was not Narcissa's cousin had a piece of parchment in his hand, but he was gripping it too tightly to see what the title on the paper was. As they shut the door, still roaring with uncontrollable laughter, Madame Rosmerta flicked her wand, and light appeared in the cupboard.

The hard-on he'd lost at the appearance of Narcissa's stupid cousin and his even stupider friend came back in force as he saw Rosmerta's mostly uncovered body.

Unfortunately, Lucius noticed, Madame Rosmerta did not seem too keen on continuing their activities. He groaned as she picked up both of their robes, and handed his own to him, along with his trousers.

"Sorry, dear," she said. "But I'm afraid that truly killed the mood."

"I could restore the mood," he offered, but she just laughed.

"No, no, dear," she said. "I must be getting back to the pub. But –" her eyes sparkled "– if I ever need your assistance again, I'll owl you, alright?" Lucius' head shot up, a huge smile reaching over his features.

"Yes!" he said. "Please do! I'd love to do this again sometime! _Any _time." She chuckled again, placed one final, lingering kiss on his lips, and left the broom cupboard.

Lucius sat there on the floor for who knew how long, reliving the entire experiencing, and filling the bucket with his own Christmas spirit.

_A/N: Heh heh. Yeah. Assigned by Verbal Klepto again. Blame her for this… artistic and comic… um… masterpiece. XD Haaa. _


End file.
